The Dark Messiah
by Aphrael1742
Summary: The Dark Prophecy is gone, and the world is at peace, so Belgarion and Eriond decide to take a little vacation. But I know that you know that this is not a story about a vacation.


_Darquesse. Darquesse has arrived. The end has come._

If ever it could be said that there were some rumors so widely spread and so widely believed that they became fact, this was most definitely it.

The problem was that most rumors were just that – rumors. They were unsubstantiated stories, made up by people with too much free time on their hands, and circulated by people, gullible people, with too much free time on their hands.

But this knowledge – it most definitely was not rumor – happened to be true.

And it was starting to freak people out.

When Darquesse had smashed – not landed, smashed – with all the tact and grace, though the second one was disputable, of a falling brick, right into the middle of the Battle of Roarhaven, she had been noticed. Not that she had gone to any trouble to hide herself. Because Darquesse did not hide. Rumors of her return had started small, whispered in the corners of smoky taverns and pubs and in the shadows of dark alleyways frequented only by unseen vermin, but they had quickly spread, as rumors are wont to do, and now people moved about their lives quickly and timidly, glancing often toward the sky, as if expecting Darquesse to drop out of the clouds and start roasting people alive.

Another problem with rumors was that they had a tendency to grow with each retelling. It had started out sensibly enough – a girl with fireballs for eyes and covered from head to toe in black had dropped out of the sky into the midst of the battle and killed everyone with a flick of her arms. Then fangs and claws joined in the descriptions of her, then curved horns joined the fangs and claws, and endlessly dripping blood joined all three of Darquesse's new accessories. The rumors just got out of hand from there.

For Stephanie, the good sorcerers were simply frightening themselves, which, in her opinion, was not exactly the smartest thing to do.

'I was there and I saw it,' she heard one man say as she walked down one of Roarhaven's newly revealed streets with Skulduggery by her side. 'All two hundred warlocks, she ate all their heads.'

'There weren't two hundred warlocks, you idiot,' a woman retorted.

'I know what I saw,' he insisted. 'I was there, and I counted two hundred warlocks.'

'You couldn't count past ten,' the woman sneered. 'Nine, after that accident that took off one of your fingers,' she corrected.

'I know what I saw,' the man repeated stubbornly.

They turned into a side street, leaving Skulduggery's car behind them. Normally, Skulduggery would have driven up to the Sanctuary. The battle not two weeks ago had left its scars on Roarhaven, however, and the pavement of a number of streets were cracked and were dotted with a goodly number of fair sized craters. Buildings leaned dangerously on their sides, threatening to topple over at a moment's notice. Gaping holes, their edges blackened and singed, stood out in mute testimony to the savagery of the battle. Here and there in the shadows of buildings stood groups of sorcerers, some whom still bore obvious signs of various injuries. The shock of what the battle had done to the newly revealed glory of the city was much in evidence, and Stephanie noted a number of people staring at the remains of what had once been opulent buildings and stately structures with expressions of chagrin on their faces. The confusion in the city made it, to put it very mildly, easier to walk.

Stephanie, for her part, was rather glad of Skulduggery's decision. The skeleton detective had chosen to remain aloof, despite his rather quick acceptance of her help in tracking Darquesse down. And though now and again, in brief moments when he let his guard down, she would catch hints that his feelings for her was not quite as cold as he would like to make it out to be, she could never catch him out long enough to bring him around. The fact that she was wearing Valkyrie's face probably did little to help him change his mind. And when she did finally catch him out in one of his infrequent slips, he would stare at her, and she could almost feel the glare that seemed to almost radiate out fiercely from his empty eye sockets, and she would shrug. If he wanted to make himself miserable, there was not really much that she could do to stop him. Almost idly she wondered if Carol's death – she shied away from the word 'murder' – had anything to do with how he treated her.

The silence in the car had been most uncomfortable, for him as much as her, on their drive to Roarhaven. She had sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window; he had sat behind the wheel, eyes locked firmly on the road before him. It had been a very tense and awkward ride. Walking, Stephanie decided as they went down another street, was definitely much better.

Skulduggery apparently seemed to also feel that change in his mood as he walked. He turned his head every now and then, taking in his surroundings, and his hat, its brim pulled low, seemed to cease trying to shield his eyes from her. His pace was quick, however, and quite deliberate, and she had to almost jog to keep up. It was almost as if he did not want her to start talking, so she kept her mouth shut and concentrated instead on walking.

'I have a friend who said she was ten feet tall and she breathed fire and she burned everyone,' a man was saying.

'I thought Darquesse sliced them all into little bits,' another man objected.

'Right,' the first man said. 'But that was after she burned them. Then while they were still on fire and screaming she waved her arm and chopped them all up, a bit at a time.'

'We're all going to die,' the second man said in a quavering voice.

They walked for a while more and Stephanie frowned. At this rate, she surmised, they were all going to scare themselves to death long before Darquesse got around to killing them.

They went down another street. Personally, Stephanie liked the old Roarhaven much better. It was uncomplicated. There was one street, and there were a few buildings. Then there was the Sanctuary. One could walk from one end of it to another in less than an hour. The new Roarhaven, Stephanie thought, was much like any other city. It was crowded, it was sprawling, and it had signs whose purpose was to confound rather than lead. Alleyways ran left and right, and streets turned and twisted and seemed to go in circles. Buildings climbed so high into the sky that it was quite impossible to see other buildings over their tops. Left to her own devices, she was sure that she would get quite lost. Fortunately for her, Skulduggery was there, and Skulduggery moved with such a show of confidence that Stephanie was sure that he knew exactly down which labyrinth of streets he was supposed to go.

Then Skulduggery stopped. He turned his head left. Then he turned it right. Finally he looked straight ahead. Stephanie tensed, her hands going to the stick on her back. She scanned her surroundings for the danger that Skulduggery had obviously already seen. But he walked on, still moving confidently, and she rushed to catch up. Then he peered around a corner, and she waited for the attack to come.

'I knew it was around here someplace,' he said, seeming oddly satisfied with himself. Then he stepped around the corner of the building.

There before them was the Sanctuary, gleaming in the midday sun. Its new polished surface was, in Stephanie's opinion, much akin to an oversized mirror, and it showed. It reflected the rays of the sun just enough that it stopped just short of requiring sunglasses to look directly at it. It was quite possibly the most ostentatious remake of the whole city.

They gained entry into the Sanctuary without incident, and Skulduggery moved purposefully through the corridors. Sorcerers moved about, quickly and nervously, their faces as concerned as the sorcerers outside had been. The war, latest in a long line of incidents that had plagued the Irish sorcerer community, was taking its toll on the Sanctuary officials. And now Darquesse had shown up. It was, quite frankly, devastating. Not one of the sorcerers that passed them would have admitted it, but Stephanie could almost feel the crumbling resolve of the sorcerers and a kind of hopelessness and dread in each individual's face. But they moved about with a fierce kind of determination that was quite inspiring.

At the end of a corridor, Skulduggery made a sudden turn, and went down a flight of stairs. Then he turned again, and they went down more stairs, and they came out into a dimly lit corridor. There was a door at the end, and Skulduggery stopped before it. He raised one gloved hand, and rapped on the door. Where his knuckles touched the wood, a slight shimmering rippled out, and there was a faint crackle.

The door opened, and Skulduggery strode in. Stephanie followed him in, and the door swung shut behind them. A light pulse ran over the wood from its middle, and door went back to being ordinary seeming again.

The room they were in was huge. It was circular, made of heavy grey stone that fitted together so tightly they left no cracks in the walls. The ceiling was high and vaulted, and shelves, strangely empty, lined the walls. Between the shelves were the candles that provided the room with light. There was a circular pattern carved in the floor, and candlesticks were placed at regular intervals. A desk of dark wood was set in the middle of the room, and spread across it were a few books and pieces of paper. Stacked neatly beside the table were a few piles of heavy books.

China was kneeling in the center of the room, busily etching sigils into the stone. A lock of hair fell across her face, and she tucked it behind her ear with an irritated flick of her wrist and continued her work. She finished the sigil, and it pulsated faintly. China brushed it lightly with her fingertips, and the light dulled, and the sigil faded into the stones. Try though she might, Stephanie could not make it out. When she was done China glanced up, and smiled sweetly at them. 'Skulduggery,' she said in a lilting voice. 'And Stephanie. Come on in, the both of you.' And she went to sit demurely behind the desk.

A strange tingle ran through Stephanie as she stepped further into the room. Hesitantly she approached China. The other woman caught her lapse, and a knowing smile flickered about her lips. Valkyrie would not have hesitated. Valkyrie knew this woman well enough. Valkyrie knew this woman was not the confident being, the haughty individual, which everyone saw. But though Stephanie had access to Valkyrie's memories, they could not have prepared her for the meeting. Valkyrie's memories were imperfect as a result of her perceptions. Now, untainted by Valkyrie's prejudices, Stephanie came face to face with the woman that everyone saw. Briefly Stephanie was brought back to the time when Valkyrie, freshly introduced to the second, hidden world where monsters and magic were very real, first laid eyes on China, and with it came all the awe and sense of being overshadowed that the memory brought. In the depths of her mind, Stephanie berated herself angrily. Then she gathered Valkyrie's bias around her, reminded herself that the woman was not perfect. She straightened, and looked China in the eye. China smiled again, and her eyes twinkled with barely concealed amusement as she watched Stephanie approach.

Skulduggery did not hesitate. He walked right up to China's desk, and unceremoniously placed his hat on one of the books resting on its corner.

China turned to him. 'Could I offer you anything?' she asked politely.

Skulduggery looked around. 'I had my fill of dust before I came.'

She laughed, a warm, rich sound, and turned her gaze about the room. 'What do you think?'

'Quaint. I prefer someplace less musty, but I am a more sophisticated individual.'

'Just quaint? No one would bother looking here. It's perfect.'

'No place is quite perfect. Where did you get all the candles?'

'Do you like it?' she asked almost girlishly.

'Electricity would have been nice.'

'Sure. It would be nice, if I wanted people to start asking questions.' Then she straightened, and her face grew serious. 'Have you found Darquesse?'

'No.'

'Are you close to finding Darquesse?'

'No.'

'Can you guess where she would show up next?'

'I'm pretty sure I just said 'no'.'

China's eyes narrowed. 'What information do you have on her, then?'

'She is going to destroy the world.' China gave him a hard look, and he shrugged. 'You did ask.'

'Why did you want to speak to me, then?'

'I was about to tell you to start shoring up our defenses, in case Darquesse attacks again, then I figured you were already on to it. But on the way here I noted an inordinately large number of people talking about Darquesse. You should probably look into heading that off as soon as possible.'

China frowned and bit on her lower lip. 'I'll see what I can do,' she said dubiously, 'but stopping rumors like that is not exactly easy.'

Skulduggery tilted his head. 'It's your responsibility.'

'I know that,' she muttered. 'What did you come here to tell me then?'

'The deaths of all those witches and warlocks have not been forgotten. I've been picking up things – bits and pieces – of something fairly major. The warlocks might be preparing for something major.'

China gaped at him. 'That last battle was devastating enough. We are not ready for another one like that.'

Skulduggery shook his head. 'It would not be another one like that. It would be bigger. We did kill Charivari, after all. If there is another call to arms, every warlock would join in. Those people hold grudges like a child holds on to candy.'

'What are you not telling me?'

Skulduggery sighed. 'The deaths of the Brides of Blood Tears might just provoke the witches. They might dwell on the fact that Darquesse was the one who killed those Brides, but –'

'They might reason that, since Valkyrie and you went in there, the sorcerers are to blame.'

'It sounds ridiculous when you say it.'

'It _is _ridiculous.'

He shrugged. 'They're witches,' he said, as if it explained everything.

China rested her head on a hand. 'I'll set some people to it.'

Skulduggery nodded. 'If you don't mind, I've got a person to locate.' He took his hat, and walked to the door. It swung open, and Skulduggery walked out, with Stephanie close behind.

He dropped her off at her house, and she hefted the bag she always carried now over her shoulders. She moved to open the front door. Voices drifted from inside, and she paused, her hand half outstretched. Slowly she pressed her ear to the door. It did not take her long to sort the individual voices out. One was the familiar voice of her father. The other man in the room was not one that she was familiar with, but it sounded strangely familiar. She frowned and concentrated, straining to pick out individual words. It was a difficult task. The words were muffled and were not exactly coherent. Then the voices rose, and one word came drifting out from amidst the heated conversation – 'Valkyrie'.

It could have been entirely coincidental, of course. 'Valkyrie' was not exactly the most original of names. But why would Desmond Edgley be talking – arguing, from the sound of things – about Norse mythology? Her father was strange – erratic would probably be a nicer term – but Stephanie doubted that he was _that_ strange.

And so, taking a deep breath, Stephanie forced a cheerful smile, and stepped into the house. Desmond Edgley was in the middle of saying something. His arms were raised, and his mouth was open. Stephanie thought he looked rather silly. The other man was sitting at a table, a laptop in front of him. At least, he appeared to have been sitting. He was on his feet now, and he was staring at her, his mouth agape. Shock flashed across his face, only to be quickly replaced by incredulity, then bewilderment, and relief, and finally settled into a peculiar mixture of all of them. The result made him look just a little strange. Stephanie knew who he was, of course. There was not a great deal of information that she could not recall, and she had met him only just recently. She remembered the way he had lurked around the wall during the Battle of Roarhaven, always on the lookout for information, especially those regarding Valkyrie. In all the excitement of the battle, however, she had forgotten him. Stephanie watched the storm of emotions sweep across Kenny's face, and she calmly returned the look. Absently she wondered what exactly he was doing in her house. Then she saw what was on his laptop, and grew tense. Was he here for some crucial information? Some missing piece for that documentary he was making?

Her train of thought was derailed there, however, as it was in that moment that the two men facing her recovered their wits.

'Stephanie!' cried her father.

'Valkyrie!' Kenny exclaimed.

'Thank god you're all right,' said Desmond.

'You're alive!' Kenny almost shouted.

Stephanie stared first from one man to the next, her face a look of blank incomprehension. 'Of course I'm fine. What's going on?'

Both men opened their mouths. But they were not given a chance to speak as, at that moment, Stephanie's mother appeared. 'Stephanie!' she shrieked. Then she ran forward to enfold her daughter in a hug.

Stephanie was getting more frustrated by the minute. She allowed her mother to hug her for a few minutes, then untangled her arms from around her waist. 'Would somebody tell me what's happening?' she demanded crossly.

Kenny came forward and peered at her. 'How are you alive?' he demanded.

'The same way you're alive. What kind of question is that?'

'But I saw you die.'

'What?' she asked blankly. Then she turned to her parents. 'What is he talking about?'

'Well,' Desmond started, then he stopped and looked dubiously over his shoulder at Kenny's computer.

'He said that magic was real,' Melissa picked up. 'And that there was a battle, and you were killed.' She turned to glare at Kenny.

'Obviously it was not true,' said Desmond. 'Because you are here.' Then he paused. 'I wish what he said were true, though.' Melissa turned her glare on her husband. Desmond stared back at her for a while, then he suddenly seemed to realize what it was he just said. 'I didn't mean it like that,' he said quickly. 'I meant magic. It would be cool. Oh god I feel so bad now. Sorry, Stephanie. Please stop staring at me like that, Melissa,' he pleaded. 'I said I'm sorry.'

'You died in Roarhaven,' Kenny was saying. 'That warlock killed you. I saw it.' Then his eyes narrowed. 'Unless you _did _die. Are you some kind of illusion the sorcerers conjured to keep the truth hidden?' He advanced on her, his face lit up with a sudden intensity. 'You are, aren't you? How could they do that? Your parents deserve to know the truth.' His eyes landed on the bag that was slung over her shoulder, and a wild hope surged up in his eyes. 'That bag,' he muttered. There was no change in his stance, but there was a slight tightening around his eyes, and it gave Stephanie the crucial notice as to his intentions.

Kenny lunged at her, his hands stretched out like claws. She stepped aside, and, instinctively, batted his arms away with her bag. He stumbled, then his hands clenched around the bag. She tugged, wanting to pull it away from him, but he clutched on to it with an almost desperate fervor. Before she could stop him, his hands was in the bag, and she saw his face light up triumphantly as he took the Scepter from the bag.

Stephanie's breath caught in her throat as she watched the man hold it up in front of him like it was some glorious prize. He turned on her, his eyes blazing. 'This – you were blasting people to dust with it.'

'Stephanie,' Melissa said, her voice almost a whisper. 'What is that?'

Stephanie feigned a bright smile. 'Oh, I saw it in a little shop. It was on display, and I thought it looked pretty. It would go well with some of the costumes I have for – you know.' Then she gave an empty little laugh.

Desmond smiled. 'See, Kenny? Nothing magical about it.' Then his smile grew just a little strained. 'It's not real gold, is it?'

Stephanie rolled her eyes. 'Of course not.'

Kenny stared from her to her father, then his expression grew a little sickly. 'I'll prove it,' he almost shouted. 'How does this thing work?' He flipped the Scepter and turned it over in his hands, twisting it this way and that, trying to get it to do something. Then his eyes fell on the black crystal, and his hand moved towards it.

Stephanie gasped and jumped at him, grasping it at the point where the crystal touched the rod. Then she yanked it away from him and stuffed it back into her bag, before moving a few steps away from him. Her heart thudded in her chest and she scowled at him, hoping neither he nor her parents would notice that she was trembling. She folded her arms and took a few deep breaths, struggling to regain her composure.

Kenny started to say something, but Melissa moved in front of him. 'Stop,' she said in a voice that was unusually firm. 'I don't want to hear another word from you.' Her eyes flickered toward the laptop that ley forgotten on the table. 'Get your things and leave my house.' He opened his mouth to protest, and she held up a hand. 'Go.'

Kenny's eyes widened, and his face grew set. Abruptly he turned and gathered up his belongings. He glanced at Stephanie's parents, then his eyes rested on her. He stared at her for a long moment, then he clenched his teeth and stalked out, muttering darkly to himself.

Her parents handled the whole affair far better than she had imagined they would. If things were different, Stephanie would even have been rather proud of them. They said all manner of unseemly things about Kenny, scoffed at his theories, and joked about his evidence. Stephanie smiled and nodded and laughed with them for a while, then she left them and went to her room. She sat heavily down on her bed, dropping the bag by her feet. On a sudden impulse, she took the Scepter out from the bag and stared at it, not really seeing anything. Then she sighed and lay back on the bed. There was, at least, one question that the whole episode had answered. She held the Scepter above her face, then reached out one tentative finger and brushed its tip lightly against the crystal. Then she held the hand out and inspected it closely. She seemed to still be whole. Without quite knowing why, Stephanie suddenly grinned.


End file.
